


The Sound of Infinity

by misakithecrow



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Judge Silently, M/M, Never used AO3., Please Don't Hate Me, Slow Burn, Sorry if I rated this wrong?, Soulmates, Things may change depending on where this goes, aaaaah, more tags to come, this is my first fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-23 12:59:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14332965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misakithecrow/pseuds/misakithecrow
Summary: To Misaki, it's the sound that signifies that he's finally living-- that there's finally some sort of meaning to the lifetime of wait and want that's already passed him by. To Saruhiko, it's something more sinister; it's the sound of a clock that's just started ticking, the sight of his father's corpse laughing beneath a white sheet, and the reason he'll one day, be six feet under.Either way, there's no undoing it, so they'll have to figure out who's right about it together. So much trouble all because of a little ba-thump...ba-thump...ba-thump.Soulmate AU where your heart starts beating when you look your soulmate in the eyes.





	1. Intro

The evening quiet is briefly interrupted by the harsh sound of a rapidly opening door. A young mother, elbow deep in suds and dirty dish water, sighs away her impatience before she addresses the cause of the unnecessary disturbance that has no doubt, plodded through her newly vacuumed living space with muddy shoes. 

“Misaki Yata, how many times do I have to tell you--” But the rest of her admonishment is left forgotten as a sharp inhale cuts through the remainder of her words at the sight of her bedraggled son standing in the midst of their open doorframe. He looks a strange mix of half way irritated, and uncharacteristically crestfallen, brows drawn down and mouth set into a flat scowl as he glares at the floor for all he’s worth. Bruises and dirt litter his skin, and his lip has a vicious looking cut through the left side, but otherwise he seems to have made it back in one piece with no visible injuries that would require hospitalization. 

His mother is thankful for that much. She had already busied herself by tallying up the medical costs in her head, comparing her meager earnings to the total of a hypothetical hospital bill in her panic. A millisecond later however, a wave of guilt and regret washes over her. She reasons that she shouldn’t be so concerned with minor matters when her wounded son is still standing in front of her. 

She’s at his side in less than a second, checking him over frantically anyways to verify what her sharp eyes have already told her. “What happened to you?!” She finally asks, pulling back after she’s satisfied, “did you get into another fight at school? I told you that if someone makes you angry Misaki, you are to walk away!” Her voice doesn’t conceal her own temper any longer. She’ll patch him up, but for the moment he’s in need of a lecture. This isn’t the first time he’s come home with telltale signs that he’s been in a recent scrap. Even at such a young age, Misaki would rather use his fists than his words. Haruka thinks that he’s alarmingly like his father in that way.

“They started it!” He grouches, with his usual justification as he finally tears his livid gaze from the carpet.

“That is no excuse--”

“They said that you n’ dad weren’t really soulmates! And I’m broken ‘cuz of it!” Misaki shouts, tiny hands balled into fists at his side.   
Whatever Haruka was about to retort with, stops immediately as she processes the cruel words her son regurgitates from his earlier scuffle. Her eyes soften, and her voice drops to almost a whisper, “Misaki...”

“They said--” and here, he sniffs, furiously wiping at the droplets beading at the corners of his eyes, “--that there’s no way I can have a soulmate ‘cuz I wasn’t even s’posed to be here.”

His mother allows silence to engulf them for a long moment, hazel meeting hazel as she studies the son that she’s forced to grow up too fast with hasty decisions of her own. At last, she pulls him into a gentle hug, rocking him to the quiet melody playing in her head. “Of course you’ll have a soulmate.” She soothes, planting a kiss on to Misaki’s forehead. “Everybody does.”

She says it with such certainty, that already, Misaki’s doubts have begun to melt away. “But I wasn’t s’posed to--”

“Just because you were a surprise, doesn’t mean that you weren’t supposed to happen.” Haruka speaks into the unruly red locks that stick out in all directions at the top of her son’s head. “There’s someone out there for everyone, and especially for you.” She finishes resolutely.

“Everyone?” He questions one last time just to be sure.

“Everyone.” She answers confidently. 

But when Misaki manages to wiggle a little out from his mother’s grip, her eyes are no longer on him. Instead, she seems intensely focused on something out their humble living room window. Misaki can’t help but notice that it’s almost as though she’s searching for something.

Regardless, he’s assured well enough by her words, and so he settles nearer to her, attempting to provide her with the same comfort she’s provided him. He doesn’t know if his small actions help, but as he settles closely to her chest, he sits in a rare moment of respectful silence, straining his ears for any noise amidst the sudden soundlessness of their home. As he leans into his mother, he already knows that he won’t find a heartbeat beyond the barrier of her rib cage, but he thinks that even if his father and her _had_ been soulmates, and there _had_ been some sort of sound there, he would have been listening to the thumping of her broken heart.


	2. Chapter 1

Saruhiko is vaguely aware of the fact that he's moderately dehydrated thanks to the slight dizzying sensation that seems to have dislodged his sense of balance. Despite his body's passive aggressive request for water, he carries on with his work, (delivering the cold shoulder to his human necessities per the usual) squinting at florescent screens and long lists of script. The computer code is a language he speaks more fluently than Japanese or English, and it's definitely preferred to the alternative.

Vertigo or not, Saruhiko can revel in the fact that he doesn't have to interact with the human populous almost ever, outside of his overly ego-eccentric boss and on occasion, some underling running errands. Regardless, that's something he can put up with, after all, Reisi Munakata has already been cleared as a negative match, along with every other person employed under Scepter 4. To Saruhiko, as long as there's nothing that might majourly impact his future within the confines of the Security lab's walls, he's happy to stay. He has no intention of uniting with his 'other half' anyways, when it would technically be the same thing as allying with his cause of death. No, in fact, he wants nothing more than to avoid a confrontation like that.

After a long staring match with the holographic computer that he’s effectively wiped clean, he decides that an impending headache is enough reason to catch up on some rest. Against his better judgement, he stands too rapidly, and sways dangerously as a result. Miraculously, Saruhiko manages to remain on his feet before he makes his way towards the exit. He'll submit a report to Munakata the following day.

Before he carries on to his private quarters however, he get's the sudden desire to take a look out the window. Normally, all outside views are obscured by artificial scenery, like beaches with swaying palms and lush green forests. If Munakata is feeling particularly whimsical, it’s something more irritating like Disney World. Luckily, today, the digital reality bots seem to be offline, and the windows display nothing but the authentic outside world.

"Tsk," Saruhiko clicks his tongue, annoyed by his own whims. Never the less, he entertains the strange impulse, making a B-line for one of the windows, frowning at some of the dust and debris that litters the pane, before he glances beyond the glass.

He sees people. Average people, in average states of dress, doing average things, with their average lives. He observes this for a moment more before he sneers in disgust at their complacency. "Fools." He thinks, hastily regretting his decision to squander away minutes by looking down upon the society he already knows is insignificant. They're all wasting their time, as far as Saruhiko is concerned. They'll go about their day to day business forming bonds with a number of people, and if they're what most (with the exception of Saruhiko) consider lucky, they'll inevitably find their matches; their soulmates.

Of course he knows as much as any kindergartener, that this will jumpstart a heartbeat-- the very first heartbeat for each person. Collectively with one life-changing ba-thump their lives will supposedly begin, and really begin, and all will live happily ever after. Kittens, rainbows, and ooey gooey feelings all around.

The idea thoroughly sickens him. What adults neglect to inform their little ones of, and what the world remains blind to, is the ugly facts that lay behind soulmate biology. A heartbeat also marks the beginning of the aging process as the body launches itself headlong into a life cycle that has phenomenally been put on pause up until that moment. Saruhiko knows that in that case, the start of life also marks the simultaneous start of death.

Saruhiko has no intention of dying anytime soon, and especially not for some stranger the universe says he's supposed to dedicate his life to. He intends to live a millennia or two, and perhaps when he's good and ready, he'll decide how and if he ends it. With any luck, his other half will be intelligent enough to provide the same courtesy.

Without further ado, he turns his back on the scenery, and mutters, “weather exhibit series 1; Bermuda Beach.” The system responds with an acknowledgement that he doesn’t wait around to hear, but he can see the polluted city light gradually fade against the walls, instead, replaced by bright sunlight that can only be found in tropical climates. As he’s rounding the corner to finally satiate his need for respite, he nearly runs headlong into a collision with the aforementioned C.E.O of the company. Munakata has a peculiar talent for showing his infuriatingly handsome face at the most inconvenient of times, and Saruhiko doesn’t have any pleasant feelings about their impromptu meeting. “Captain,” he addresses his boss by the ludicrous nickname he incessantly insists on being called, “what do you want?” He finishes off in a less formal tone.

“Ah, Fushimi, just the man I wanted to see.” Munakata chimes in a wretchedly cordial way. “Where are you off to in such a hurry? I trust that you’ve completed your last assignment?”

Saruhiko shoots the man a look that speaks for itself. “Of course. It wasn’t difficult. I’ll have the reports on your desk early tomorrow.” He tries to effectively cut off their conversation from there, already pushing past Munakata in an effort to make it to his room before he can think of something more to say.

“Splendid. Oh, and Fushimi?” He hums.

Saruhiko visibly cringes, making a show of the slow turn he does to properly glimpse back at his boss’s gleeful expression. “What?” He doesn’t try to hide his displeasure, but of course Munakata seems to remain oblivious to his resentment.

“Since you still have time, I thought you might oblige in taking on another small task? Of course, if it’s too much for you to handle, I would understand. You did look to be on your way out. No matter, I can ask Akiyama if he--”

“What is it?” Saruhiko recognizes that he’s being provoked, but he’s helpless to take the bait.

Munakata pauses, and provides a furtive smile. “It seems an old friend of mine is having some technical difficulties with his AI register. Would you mind having a quick look? I’ll make the necessary arrangements to provide you with an escort here and back as well as overtime pay.”

It’s a deal that’s almost too good to pass up, if not for the idea of associating with clients outside his official building, but he has nothing better to do, and Saruhiko will be damned before he allows Akiyama to show him up on something so basic. “Fine.” He agrees with a long sigh. “I trust you’ve transferred the information already?” It’s less of a question than it sounds, as he flicks through a few holographs off his PDA in pursuit of the statements he’s referring to, but to Saruhiko’s surprise, all he receives in return is a warm chuckle.

“This one is off the records. I owe the man a favour.” Munakata explains in a cryptic tone that Saruhiko is familiar with, but not enough to decode. At any rate, he nods, spares minimal goodbyes, and makes his way out the double glass doors. He’s not surprised to see a messy head of orangish-red hair sat in the driver’s seat of a sleek black something, windows down and music blaring. “Domyoji,” Saruhiko scolds, pinching the bridge of his nose as he slides in next to the idiot he’s allegedly trusting with his life, “you’re supposed to be discreet. That’s the point of an escort.”

“Oh! Saruhiko! Yeah, sorry, I jam out when I’m alone.” To his credit, Domyoji lowers the volume with one practiced sweeping motion of his hand, but Saruhiko can still feel his eye twitching.

“Just hurry up.” He says through an unsteady exhale. His tolerance is already defaulted at a low level, and at the current rate things are going, it’s likely to decrease into further decline.

“You got it!” Domyoji chirps, and before Saruhiko can blink, they’ve peeled out of Scepter Four’s launch pad and above an old road that nobody uses anymore.

They’re into the trip all of forty seconds, before Saruhiko’s ears are assaulted once more by the jarring sounds of Domyoji’s overactive vocal chords. He swears that he would remove them directly from the source if not for the impending doom he’d face after incapacitating his pilot. Thinking on his feet, he manages to spare himself another way. “The Captain mentioned an old friend of his at this location. Do you know anything about it?”

Domyoji halts mid ridiculous dance move, and considers Saruhiko’s question, effectively ending his rein of musical terror for the moment. “Nope!” He declares casually, descending past a few skyscrapers. “I didn’t even know that the Captain had friends to begin with.”

The retort spawns a rare smile from Saruhiko. For all of Domyoji’s idiocies, his abrupt speech and earnest opinions are genuinely comical. Saruhiko doubts that he even realizes the social faux pas he’s just committed. He’s likelier to view it as an everyday fact, but that makes it all the more laughable-- and endearing, if Saruhiko was ever one for trivial affections.

Shizume is fast fading behind them, and though they’re still within city limits, Saruhiko can’t help but notice the rapid change in appearance. The buildings are older, and smaller, but their brick compositions make them look rugged and eerie. Perhaps he’s reading too far into the personality of the area, but from looks alone, he’s already slightly on edge. He’s never carless enough to venture out of office unarmed, not when his occupation is intertwined with the justice system, but the knives he has concealed beneath his uniform are a limited force. Never the less, he refrains from making further judgements until Domyoji lands, and they disembark from the vehicle.

Once grounded, Saruhiko assesses his surroundings and reflects on his original perceptions; the town is shady. His boots clack against the chilly concrete as he fastens his gaze on the structure Domyoji’s parked next to. “ ‘Homra’, huh?” His eyes narrow, after reading the name of what he can only assume, is an extremely outdated bar. It’s still labeled with antique fluorescents as opposed to the holographic projections systems they have nowadays. Regardless of it’s obsolete advertising, and all around existence, Saruhiko has to admit that it’s impressively well kept for it’s generation.

Domyoji dissolves the glass for a moment to speak, “it’s in there.” He nods towards the bar, as though Saruhiko requires assistance locating his assignment, and continues, “I’ll wait for you out here. Lemme know when you’re all done!” And that’s Saruhiko’s dismissal, he guesses, because the glass reanimates, and though the windows are tinted thoroughly enough to obstruct any external spying, Saruhiko doesn’t need to see inside the vehicle to know that Domyoji is already back to hosting his own personal dance party.

Saruhiko clicks his tongue, and approaches the humble front patio, frostbitten fingers clutching the railing that outlines the small stairway to the door. Per the usual, Munakata has already destroyed his original expectations, and it’s all he can do to be completely open to anything, as he pushes his way past the doors, telltale chimes welcoming him in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, thank you everyone for your encouraging comments. They're 100% appreciated. I'll try to answer some of your questions as well. I'd also like to apologize for the shortness of the first chapter, but I really wanted to write the upcoming meeting from Misaki's perspective. Additionally, I'm sorry that this is all kind of filler, but the next chapter will be more exciting! Your thoughts and further inquiries are very much enjoyed! ;u;
> 
> Edit: Forgot to mention that this is set in the future, not only pertaining to Saruhiko’s personal life, but also in general time, approximately 300ish year’s from our current time. That’s why there’s strange kinds of things like robots, holograms, and dissolving windows. XD Sorry if that was confusing to anyone!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! This is my first fic, hooray! I'm kind of a lurker when it comes to AO3, but I'm considerably new to posting. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the teaser. Please be kind if you decide to comment! ;u;


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